Together At Last
by SALJStella
Summary: We all wanted a happy ending... Especially when it comes to Adam and Lawrence, right? This story picks up after Lawrence leaves the bathroom, and it's a tale of love, but more than anything, friendship, bigger than anything else in the world. AdamLawrence
1. Promise

**A/N: Another Saw-fic to my collection… This chapter is pretty short, and pretty angsty. But I promise you: In the future the will be romance. And not just any romance: SLASH romance! Enjoy!**

**1: Promise**

_Adam… _

Lawrence shuffled forward by his hands. The bleeding stump that once was his foot didn't even hurt anymore, it felt like a paper cut that you can lick on, and it would stop bleeding. He didn't want to look at it.

He was a doctor, he knew how patients reacted when they saw their own wounds. When they saw the read flesh glisten, the blood flow, the bone shine, white through all the red.

Lawrence scraped his hands on the dirty floor. And his head was heavy by the thoughts of everyone he had to save.

_Allison… _

_Allison stands at the altar, she wears a beautiful, white wedding dress, she says 'I do', her eyes sparkle, her lips are soft… _

_Diana… _

_Diana shows me the drawings she made while I was at work, she points to one of them and says it's a horse, Diana cries because I can't be home for her birthday…_

_Adam… _

The tears burn in Lawrence's eyes.

_Oh God, Adam!_

_Adam tries to reach the tape recorder in the dead body's hand, Adam says he doesn't care if I cover myself in peanut butter and do a fifteen-hooker-gangbang, Adam cries, he screams that I shouldn't leave him… _

_Adam… I'll bring someone back, I'll bring someone back… _

_I promised, Adam, I will bring someone back, and I will save Allison and I will save Diana, and I will save all three of you, because I love you, I love all three of you… _

_I will save you… _

Lawrence screamed into nothing in despair, pain, fear, rage and continued to heave himself forward. He heaves himself on his own anger, his own fear.

_I will… _

And all the sudden –

Movement.

Lawrence fell down, turned into a pile of blood and pale skin on the floor, because the blood poured from the cut in his foot, his _used-to-be _foot, but he didn't notice. The hopelessness and the tiredness from today's labors washed over him like giant wave.

Oh well.

Here came Jigsaw.

Now he would die.

Allison. Diana. Adam. And him.

They would die. All three of them. Because of him. That fucking bastard.

Lawrence's hands clenched into fists on the floor. A low growl rose from his throat.

That fucking, goddamn _bastard! _

But the movement didn't come from an old man. Even Lawrence could hear that, even though a close unconsciousness lured behind him.

It wasn't movements from fragile feet. It wasn't swooshing from Jigsaw's cloak.

It was thumping from heavy boots, it was rattling from big weapons, it was squealing from sirens and beeping from machines.

Lawrence moaned and rolled over to his back. He didn't know whom found where-ever-he-was, and he didn't want to know.

He wanted to sleep, faint, die.

He wanted to get away from the pain, away from the dirty concrete floor, away from the sorrow, away from everything…

But just when Lawrence actually felt death's big, black liberation devour him, a big, black boot instead appeared next to his head, and brought him back from the grim reaper's skeleton embrace.

"Lawrence Gordon?"

A face floated in and out of Lawrence's vision. Was he Lawrence Gordon? He didn't quite remember… Maybe he was? The name sounded familiar…

Lawrence answered with a soft moan.

The policeman aimed his flashlight to Lawrence's foot. His stomach turned when he saw the fleshy, bleeding wound, but he stayed together. He knew it was Lawrence Gordon, he'd left a shooting-victim at his hospital once. But that the pale, fainting, dirty man that lied in front of the policeman now was the same person as the respectable, calm doctor he'd seen then, was very hard to believe.

The police lowered to his knees and grabbed Lawrence's head between his hands.

"Doctor Gordon," he said as clearly as he could. "Don't pass out. Don't pass out, do you hear me? You can't do that, then we're not sure we can wake you up. Stay with me, okay? You're wife and you kid are at the hospital, they're fine. Now, we just have to get you there, too. Do you understand me, doctor Gordon?"

Lawrence kept moaning. He wanted to pass out, he didn't want to stay awake, he couldn't do it!

_You can't pass out, _a tiny voice inside his mind said. _If you pass out, they will be in such a hurry to get you to the hospital that they'll leave right now. And then, who's going to tell them about Adam?_

Adam. Yes. They had to find Adam. Allison and Diana were fine.

Now, they had to find Adam.

Lawrence tried to explain this to the police. He grabbed his arm and tried to tell him, tried to tell him about the frightened, wounded man that was just a couple feet away, but it came out as just another moaning.

"Don't try to talk, doc," the police said as a couple of paramedics laid a gurney down next to Lawrence. "We're going to get you to the hospital now."

"Adam," Lawrence wheezed, and his grip on the police's arm tightened. "Adam… You… Must…"

A tube was pushed into his arm, new blood was forced into his veins.

"Doc…"

"Adam…" Lawrence said, and a few tears seeped out from his eyes. "You Must… Adam… He's…"

"Someone else?" The police's eyes widened. "Is there someone else here?"

"Adam…" Lawrence threw his bloodless arm out against the black corridor. "Further down… In the hall… A bathroom… Adam… Find Adam…"

"Guys!" The police yelled to some people Lawrence couldn't see. "There's someone down the hall! There's supposed to be a bathroom!"

Lawrence could almost smile weakly when he felt the gust of wind from a few policemen that rushed past him. Towards the bathroom. Towards Adam.

The new blood was pumped into his veins. He felt life return to him.

_I kept my promise…_

**There's more to come… And please review, and I'll update a hell of a lot faster! **


	2. Adam Raised A Chain

**A/N: YIKES, what a long chapter! I can't help myself, when I'm writing about cute Adam I'm damn unstoppable! Anyway, I have to admit that I'm not that big on this chapter, but… What matter lays in my opinion?**

**Disclaimer: If I owned Saw, believe me, I wouldn't write fanfiction. Because if I did, this is what the movie would have looked like, so it wouldn't be necessary!**

**2: Adam Raised A Chain**

A larger man than Adam Faulkner wouldn't be able to scream that loud.

"LET ME THE FUCK OUT!"

His throat had… Broken. There was no better way to put it. During the last hours he had tried to shout, he'd really tried to shout, but the only thing that happened was that a dry noise fell from his lips, and a couple pf lonely, dark drips had seeped out between his teeth and settled on the already bloodstained floor.

Adam rolled over on his back. Stared at a ceiling that he couldn't even see. Couldn't that goddamned old man have left the lights on before he left him there to die? That wouldn't have caused him an awful amount of trouble, would it?

Whatever. He probably didn't want to waste any electricity.

Adam would have laughed if his throat hadn't been broken.

_Yes, I am the saint known as Jigsaw. I've killed a bunch of people in terrible, disgusting ways, but at least I don't raise the global warming, because I'm such a nice guy! _

The first thing he screamed… Was that.

"_LET ME THE FUCK OUT!"_

Then, he'd kept screaming. Constantly. Really, with no brakes, until those first drops of blood started coming out, dying his teeth red…

He didn't remember how long it had been since then. It could have been a minute, an hour, a day, a week. But he remembered that even after those first drops had appeared, he'd done a lot more efforts to scream, but most of the time it didn't even come out as words, just as an empty roar of despair.

What was the _last _thing he managed to shout? That actually sounded like words?

His own voice echoed in Adam's memories, he heard his own furious scream in his half-smashed mind.

"_I WON'T DIE IN HERE!"_

Then he fell into a heap, that he remembered clearly. He had forced those final words from the depths of his strength, and to what purpose?

Now, a scoff actually found a way up his throat. What an irony. In movies, people always said good, sensible, honorable things when they were their last words. And what would people remember about him? At least, those who knew about his useless existence at all.

What was the last thing Adam James Faulkner said?

Well, it was a lie.

Okay, it wasn't really a lie. The last thing Adam James Faulkner said was something that he, as the naïve person he was, actually hoped was a truth.

But it wasn't.

Adam realized that when he drew his tongue along his teeth. Tasted the blood.

This was the end.

This reeking, filthy, bloodstained bathroom would be his grave.

The bathtub would be his tomb. And he'd already hit his head in it, and he'd done it hard. So hard that new blood had started pouring, along with that which had been pushed out between his teeth, from a wound in his forehead. The room had started spinning, and an hour, a day or a week ago, he had been forced to drag himself to one of the toilets and throw up.

I won't die here.

Won't.

But I will anyway.

Adam closed his eyes. He didn't want to see anything in this bathroom. And if he just thought a little bit, he could probably picture a beautiful meadow or something else that's pretty that he could die on.

_Oh well,_ he thought. _So this is it. No turning back. I won't make it out of this. Not even if I saw my foot off, like Lawrence_.

With that thought, he had to open his eyes again.

Lawrence.

Lawrence hadn't made it. How could he, with that wound? Next to his bleeding, oozing stump, Adam's cut in the head was nothing. He must've bled to death just a short bit outside the door.

_Yes, _a little voice in his head said, _but he died free. They will find him as a man that fought, a brave man that did what he had to to save his family. He won't be found as a chained up skeleton in a pre-historical bathroom, as you put it. You should hate him, you know that? He promised he would send someone back for you, and you both knew he would never make it. You shouldn't lay there and miss him, you should curse him for giving you false promises like that. That sounds like something Adam Faulkner would do, doesn't it? Angry and pathetic, wasn't that what Jigsaw said? And to hate someone for the last hour of you life, that's angry _and _pathetic! _

_I know that, _Adam responded. _And that's why I don't do it. I won't be what Jigsaw said I am for the last hour of my life. _

And that's why he was going to miss Lawrence.

He would lay there and think about Lawrence. Just because of that. And for no other reason.

He wasn't thinking about Lawrence because even this bathroom was bearable when Lawrence, doctor let's-think-this-through, was there to comfort him.

But Lawrence was dead now. He would never comfort anyone ever again.

Adam was in too much pain to notice the tears that ran from the corners of his eyes.

And then –

Adam's thoughts were cut off.

A sound.

Steps.

Steps outside.

Outside the door. Outside the door to hell, there was no doubt steps were heard.

And voices. Human voices, voices from people who weren't Jigsaw, voices that didn't say 'Game over!', and tears flew from Adam's eyes even wilder, and for totally different reasons.

Voices.

Voices meant people.

People meant rescuing.

A sob tore over Adam's bleeding throat.

_People. People who saves me. _

But then he heard one of those oh-so-very-welcomed voices say something even worse than 'Game over!'. Worse than anything.

"Doctor Gordon talked about a kid down here, but the hall ends now, and we haven't found anyone. You think he could've hallucinated?"

"He should be perfectly capable of it," another voice answered. "You can tell what a trauma he's been through, that poor thing."

Both panic and relief hit Adam at the same time, and he got up on his elbows, hissing in pain when he put weight on his wounded shoulder to stare at the door.

Lawrence had survived. And he hadn't forgot about him, not even in all his pain and fear. The cops, or whoever was out there, were looking for him.

But they hadn't found anything.

That's what the female voice out there had said. Word by word. And it was easy to read between the lines.

We haven't found anything.

So let's go.

Adam hasn't ever understood how he, afflicted and panicking, then could think faster than he ever had before. But still, he lifted the toilet lid, that was still stained and slippery from Zep's blood, using what was left of his strength, and he saw it whistling through the air as if in slow motion.

_Please, God, _he thought in despair. _Please. I know I haven't been your favorite during these twenty-nine years, but please, let me make it out of this. Just this one thing. Let me make it out of this bathroom, and I'll never, never ever, take life for granted again. _

"_I'm in here!" _Adam yelled when they toilet lid hit the door with a shattered slamming, and ignored the blood, that by now basically _gushed, _bothout of his mouth and from the cut in his forehead. _"I'm in here! Please, God, help me, I'm in here!"_

xxxxxxxxxxx

The two polices outside the door startled when they heard the banging from the yellow metal surface that appeared to be an average wall. The owner of the female voice Adam had heard, assistant Cara Elliot, gave her partner a frightened look.

"What was that?"

Detective Martin Johansen beckoned against the door.

"It came from there. Maybe Gordon wasn't just raving, after all."

Cara laid a hand on the door. She fumbled across the dirty material until she found a handle.

It wasn't even locked. But when she opened the door she almost wished it would have been, because then. The smell of blood, death and misery welled out over her and her co-worker as a terrible cloud. Cara put her hand over her mouth out of reflex, in both disgust and shock, when a gate of light landed on the still scenario in the bathroom.

The first thing she saw was a foot, that had to be Gordon's, closest to the door, in its puddle of blood.

"Oh my God," she mumbled.

There weren't any other words to describe this.

_Oh my God. _

Then she saw a body, and it was whole, at least, yet with a smashed face. The identification would be hell, but that was the last thing that even she, Cara Elliot, who was known over the whole American police crew for being almost inhumanly professional, thought about at that moment. She took a few quick steps into the room, and Johansen followed her, with an obvious hesitation in his walk.

"Turn on the lights," she told him in a clipped way, even though he worked above her. That was just another thing neither one of them thought about.

The light flowed mercilessly from the fluorescent lamps, and once again Cara almost wished she hadn't chosen to do something that was probably the best decision for everyone. Because when she actually saw what had happened in the room, she wanted to lay down on the floor and cry.

But she managed to pull herself together. She pretended not to see the foot, the body, the blood, the saw. she just spotted the sobbing, shaking bundle that Gordon must've talked about in one of the corners, three words, three very valuable words, found their way through the cloud of panic in her brain.

_Can be saved._

He could. His t-shirt was drenched in blood on his right shoulder, and he was probably in shock, but he looks fine. Or, more specifically, his back looked fine. He was on his stomach, so for all she knew, his face could be as smashed as the other guy on the floor's.

She was by his side in a matter of seconds, and rolled him over to his back. Johansen stood paralyzed in the entrance, and Cara raised her voice to him.

"Get paramedics."

No reaction. Anger rose in her, and she threw her hand out, annoyed.

"What the fuck are you gawking at? Move your fat ass and get some god damn paramedics!"

Johansen stared blankly at her. But he went away, silently, despite her tantrum, and Cara hoped that he would go quick enough to save this kid's life.

The man's face wasn't smashed. He looked fine, besides the fact that he was unconscious and very pale. Getting their attention seemed to have cost him his last efforts. When she laid his head in her lap and felt that he was still breathing, his beautiful face was relaxed. She checked his pulse, just to be sure. Oh yes. He was alive.

_Jesus Christ, _Cara thought and swallowed a sob as she cupped the young man's cheek. _So young and so handsome. You're not supposed to down here and suffer, you're supposed to be out there, bathing in light! You're supposed to enjoy your life!_

She tried not to scream when the body in her arms suddenly moved, and his grey eyes widened at the sight of her. Cara snuffled, ashamed of herself for losing her toehold like that.

"Adam?" she said, her voice almost steady. "Adam Faulkner?"

xxxxxxxxxxx

Adam grunted. The light hurt. He saw a woman's face that he didn't recognize floating around in his sight.

Adam Faulkner. That was his name. She knew his name. Why did she know his name? Who was she?

He tried to nod, but it just felt like needles rattled around in his head. Why did have such a headache?

New feet seemed to walk into the room. A voice that had been damaged by too many cigarettes said:

"I brought some guys here. They have a buzz saw for the chain."

And a memory started to move in Adam's mind, which had almost been wrecked by the all the fear.

All the big, overwhelming, mind-numbing fear.

_He doesn't want us to cut through our chains. He wants us to cut through our feet. _

Lawrence voice had said that.

Yes, he remembered Lawrence.

Lawrence voice had been here to comfort him. But he wasn't here now. Lawrence couldn't protect him anymore.

_They don't want to cut through my chain, they want to cut through my foot, they want to hurt me, they're working with Jigsaw! Lawrence! Help me!_

Without even being aware of it, Adam started to toss and turn in Cara's arms. Lawrence wasn't here, Lawrence couldn't help him, and now Jigsaw's protégés would saw off his foot, and he would never see him again.

"Lawrence!" he yelled with his broken voice. "Lawrence! Help me! LAWRENCE!"

"Adam!" Cara said as she felt tears rise in her eyes. "Adam! Calm down!"

But she didn't have to ask him to do that, because then Adam tried to sit up without thinking of the fact that he was still very close to the tub, and when he hit the edge on it for the second time, unconsciousness finally set him free once again.

**Well? It doesn't have to be bad just because it's long, does it? Please review and I'll give you cookies!**


	3. Bonds Almost Broken

**A/N: Jeez… ****This chapter is the longest fanfiction-piece I've ever written, and please forgive me for that. Hope you don't think I'm boring… Bu anyway, my pretties, read on. **

**3: Bonds Almost Broken**

Water splashed over the white wall to the hospital room when Lawrence threw the bottle of water that stood in front of him into it with every ounce of the little power he had.

The frustration burned inside of him. These people stuffed him with tranquilizers, and for that he was grateful, since he'd probably lay balled up under his blanket, shaking with fear if it wasn't for them, but there were things no drugs in this hospital could cure.

Like the nightmares.

Like the unbearable itching in his healing foot.

Like the worrying, like the burning frustration of the fact that Adam was _here, somewhere in this hospital, _and Lawrence was in his uncomfortable hospital bed, helpless like a turtle on its back, and these _damn _doctors wouldn't let him have him over.

He didn't get what the problem was. His foot was re-attached, and he really was okay, at least physically. And if you were to believe his barely eighteen-year-old nurse, Adam was doing as well as the circumstances let him do, and Allison and Diana had been allowed to see Lawrence a couple of times.

So why in the name of _HELL _wouldn't Adam be allowed, too? For god's sake, they were both patients at the hospital, and Lawrence _worked _here!

His nurse seemed to fight to remain calm as she watched the water run down the wall. She pursed her mouth in disliking before she turned back to Lawrence.

"I can see why you're upset, doctor Gordon. But you're in critical condition, and Mr. Faulkner is the same. You can't see him yet."

Lawrence breathing got ragged as he tried not to yell at her. He wouldn't get to see Adam again until they _both _got out of the hospital if he lost his sense once more, and he knew that.

"He is," he began which as much calm in his voice as he could bring up, "one _fucking floor _away from here. And he can walk. I'm a surgeon, I'm a surgeon on this _fucking _hospital, by the way, I know that bullet wounds are guaranteed to be immune for infections if you've removed the bullet and sewn the wound shut, and put the patient on an IV-drip with salt solution and infection killing for six hours! And _please, _tell me you've done that! Because if you hadn't, you're idiots, all of you, and if you have, he should be able to come here, just for an hour or something, since we'll hardly go out for a beer or something! For the love of god, he's in his _twenties, _he's not a fragile old man, he's a _kid! _Can't you just…"

The nurse raised an annoyed hand, and Lawrence shut up immediately.

"If you're a doctor here," she said dryly, "you should know that the employees here care about their patients. You don't have to see him yet, he gets by without your help. And you shouldn't worry about Mr. Faulkner at all, he's fine now. If I were you, I'd worry more about myself."

Lawrence stared at her, his eyes black.

How could she say something like that?

How could she tell him whom he should be worried about? Currently, he wasn't even allowed to eat on his own, but had to do it through a tube in his arm. Couldn't he at least decide whom he wanted to worry about?

"Plus, there's no need for cursing," the nurse added and tapped the said tube in his arm lightly.

Lawrence considered taking the whole tray of food that stood in front of him and throw it into the wall to join the water. Why would they even give him food? He was already given that through a tube! He'd said that! Jesus, couldn't these people do anything right when he wasn't around?

"Yes," he said slowly, "I need to curse, because otherwise, you don't listen to me."

The nurse gave him a sharp look, but you could tell she actually was listening now. She knew how many important people Lawrence could go to to tell on her if she talked back at him.

"Adam…" Lawrence began and tried to express what he wanted to say, even though he knew the bond between him and Adam couldn't really be described. "…Is my _friend_. Despite what you say, I _am _worried about him. I owe him my life."

The nurse kept looking at him. She softened, Lawrence could see that even through the fog of painkillers.

"_Please," _he continued. _"Please. _Just for an hour. It would mean… The _world _to me."

The nurse chewed on her tongue. Nervously fingered her chart, before she blew up her cheeks and slowly let the air seep out between her black-painted lips.

"I'll talk to his doctor," she finally said, almost annoyed. "Try to sleep a little while, at least, I'll get fired if you don't. But I'll see what I can do."

Lawrence was ashamed of the tears that were forming in his eyes. God, couldn't he at least wait until he saw Adam until he started bawling like a girl?

xxxxxxxxxxx

"His condition is unstable."

"Well, what the hell do you think _mine _is?" Adam hissed. "I want to see him! I'll be nice to him, I promise!"

"That isn't what matters. You can catch an infection if you walk around."

"From where? From this sterile environment? It's a bullet in my _shoulder, _it's not like I can't walk! Come on! Please, please, doctor…"

Adam clasped his hands together to emphasize his desperation. He wanted to see Lawrence, he _had _to see Lawrence. The last time he saw him he was delirious and wounded, practically on his deathbed, but he'd survived. He just wanted to make sure he was okay, make sure that Adam didn't had a reason to lay awake at night, writhing in despair, imagining Lawrence's bloodless face.

He wanted Lawrence to crawl up to him, put his hand on his cheek, tell him they were going to be okay…

"Mr. Faulkner…" The doctor began patiently, but was cut off by a young, red-haired nurse who entered the room.

"Doctor, may I have a word with you?"

The doctor gave her an 'I'm with a patient'-look, and she hurriedly added:

"It's urging."

A heavy sigh was heard from the other side of the chart the doctor held in front of his face.

"It's about doctor _Gordon!" _The young woman finally hissed, that by now seemed to have grown weary of being treated like a baby.

Adam understood why she had used that as a trump card. As soon as the name 'Gordon' reached the doctor's ears, his eyes widened for a brief second before he cleared his throat, threw his chart to the foot of Adam's bed, and asked politely if he could excuse them for a minute?

Adam send him a killing look.

"If you're going to talk about _doctor Gordon," _he said, spitting out every syllable, "you'll go no-fucking-where, okay?"

His doctor looked back at him as if he was an annoying kid who was clinging onto his leg. Then he turned to the nurse with another deep sigh, and said:

"What about doctor Gordon?"

The nurse's eyes fluttered over to Adam's hospital bed, and she made face that clearly said she didn't want to discuss this with him in the same room. Adam steadily met her gaze, because like hell they would have this conversation without him.

"He wants to…" The nurse seemed to try to find words that Adam somehow wouldn't understand. "He wants to see Mr. Faulkner."

Any person who saw Adam Faulkner at that moment would have used the metaphor "child with a brand new toy". Because in his eyes, that had been black with sorrow and locked up grief, was lightened up when he heard his friends name, and when he answered the comment he was so happy that it came out as a little yelp.

"Lawrence? Lawrence said he wanted to see me?"

Neither doctor nor nurse pretended to hear him.

"Gordon said that? He should know better, he's a doctor."

The nurse just shrugged for an answer.

"His condition can't be stable enough already, right?" The doctor said skeptically. "He saw off his foot!"

"I know that," the nurse said, "but we've re-attached it. The chance he gets to keep it actually seems pretty high. Fifty percent. And believe it or not, but his vitals, pulse, blood pressure and oxygen actually seems good enough for a short visit. An hour or so."

The doctor's brows got more and more furrowed during her little speech.

"Fifty percents chance to keep his foot? But… It almost never remains after it has been removed."

The nurse slowly shook her head. Adam's thoughts about her got a little higher when he saw a small smile on her lips.

"He seems to be a good fixer. Of both himself and others. And I'm not a doctor, but I can say, with pretty big certainty that a visit would do him good. As long as it's Mr. Faulkner coming to him, and not the other way around."

Adam felt as if someone had turned his insides into a knot from the nervousness. Now, he was so close, _so close _to meeting Lawrence again. He was a damn arm's length away, if just the doctor…

The said man sighed a third time. Adam wanted to cut his lips off, because he had a sense that sound would find its way into the few hours of sleep he got.

"Fine," the doctor said, and Adam was so happy he could oversee all the sighing in the world. "But just for an hour."

_He. Said. Fine. _

A joyous scream was heard in Adam's mind.

_He said okay. Do you get it? You're meeting Lawrence! Lawrence!_

Lawrence.

Nothing else was important to him anymore.

Adam got up from the bed, his head spun a little from the drugs and the lack of sleep, but still, he went determinately out through the door.

The doctor shouldn't see him cry.

And he _wouldn't _cry. He would swallow his sobs and find Lawrence.

And when he got in there, he wouldn't cry either. Lawrence wouldn't see him cry, he would see him strong.

But maybe he should have asked which room Lawrence was in.

It was a big hospital, so Adam had to wander around in its labyrinth of white walls and green, senselessly ugly chairs. And he didn't find Lawrence anywhere.

_Of course you don't. He's dead, you little moron. He's down in the morgue, he's in one of those freezers, he has a tag on his toe, he's cold and dead, dead, dead… _

Adam held back a sob. It felt like since he left the hospital room, he hadn't done anything else.

"Excuse me," he blurted out when a nurse passed him.

She stopped and looked kindly at him.

"You know where… Lawrence Gordon… What room he's in?"

She smiled tolerantly.

"Lawrence Gordon is a doctor at this hospital."

_Damn it. I don't want to…_

Adam raked his hand trough his hair. It was a nervous habit, and he tried to get rid of it, since whenever he did it now, he felt a stabbing pain in his forehead from where he'd hit the edge of the bathtub.

He knew he wasn't going to be able to explain to her why Lawrence Gordon, the calm, sensible doctor she'd probably gotten to know, was now in a hospital bed somewhere where Adam couldn't find him. He was too busy getting those memories away from his own head.

"Right," he said in a clipped tone. "I must've been mistaken. Thanks."

He turned around. He was going to keep walking, but before he managed to take a step, he felt a hand on his shoulder. When he turned around he saw, instead of the nurse he just talked to, the nurse that had been in his room, and she had an annoyed wrinkle between her eyes.

"There you are!" She said angrily. "You can't run off like that!"

Adam opened his mouth to excuse himself, suddenly terrified that she would tell him that such an anxious patient wasn't allowed to meet doctor Gordon, since that would make him nervous, but she interrupted him before he managed to say anything. However you do that.

"I just thought you wanted to know that doctor Gordon is in there."

When she pointed to the door right next to Adam, he would have kissed her in pure happiness, if he hadn't been in such a hurry to slam the door open and run into the sterilized room.

"Lawrence!" Adam said loudly.

He knew he should be more careful, more quiet, or even better, not there at all, but he didn't care. He _needed _Lawrence, he always had, and he'd never been more aware of it than now.

And there he was.

Lawrence.

Lawrence who was living and breathing. He was real, he was in his hospital, he was awake, he was _there, _and he stared at Adam with eyes as wide as tennis balls.

"Adam?" He said gently.

Adam nodded. Lawrence was blurred by the tears that insisted on welling up in his eyes and make them shiny, but he didn't want to cry.

"It's me," he replied, and his voice was all thick. He sounded like a seal.

God, he was a sissy.

Lawrence didn't seem to hear him. He kept staring, and his bottom lip quivered, like on a kid.

"Is it really you?" He asked silently, as if he was afraid Adam would disappear into a cloud of smoke if he spoke to loudly.

Adam nodded again, covered his mouth with his hand but still couldn't sawllow a jittery sob.

"It's me," he repeated, and his voice cracked in the middle of the sentence.

Lawrence rolled his lips together and closed his eyes.

Just for like a day they had been away from each other, and yet, they were this shook up from seeing again.

This was what needing really was. They needed each other. Both of them. But neither one of them had really gotten it yet.

Adam looked up at Lawrence. Looked at his clenched jaw, at all the tears he held back, and he thought _to hell with the macho act, _and walked up to him, bent down and hugged him.

Lawrence responded. He put his arms around Adam's shoulders, and Adam grunted in pain when he felt the pressure against his bullet wound, but he never, never ever, wanted Lawrence to let him go.

And they were together. United. Finally. Lawrence in his hospital bed and Adam next to it, and they clung onto each other as if the other would vanish of they didn't. Lawrence sobbed into Adam's hair, and they squeezed breath and tears out of each other, and neither one of them had really understood how much they've missed the other one until now.

Adam pressed Lawrence closer to him. And in a strange way, he was reminded of a moment they'd had in the ambulance that had taken them away from the bathroom, when their gurneys were next to the each other and panicking paramedics ran around outside, even though it was completely silent in the ambulance, except for their own slow respiration. And Adam had asked Lawrence how he was able to get out, and how he'd remembered to send someone back for him when he did so. Lawrence had answered, not without a small, smug smile despite the pain, that he'd made a promise, hadn't he? And then Adam had reached out a shaking hand, and Lawrence had grabbed it with his own, that was cold from the blood loss, and they had gone to the hospital that way. Together.

It had been so close to losing each other.

But they hadn't. They were here now, together once more, and neither one of them really had to say that they would never be parted again.

They knew it anyway. Both of them.

**This isn't the final chapter… I wouldn't let my darlings go before having them making out a little… But only if you review! If you don't, I'll make them hate each other! (evil cackle)**


	4. Sarcasms And Understandings

**A/N: So, here's a ****new chappie! I know there's not a lot going on right now, but I want Adam and Lawrence to slowly get used to the fact that they're desperately love each other… All my fellow ChainShippers know what I mean, but the cuties don't! Annoys the hell out of you, doesn't it? **

**Sarcasms And Understandings**

"Are they nice to you here?"

"Not so much. They refused to let me see you for a while there."

"Noted. When I get back to work I can bite them in the nose, if you want."

Adam chuckled.

"That's okay. I'm sarcastic enough to cover for an average nose-bite."

"Are you saying you're better than me at being mean to doctors?" Lawrence said in faked shock.

"Try me. My sarcasms break down the strongest of doctors."

Lawrence smiled.

"Kids today…" He said, shaking his head with a sigh.

Adam dropped an eight of heart on the pile of cards.

"Are they good to you? They should be sweet as hell."

"Why's that?" Lawrence asked, scoffing. "As soon as I open my mouth they think I'm trying to control them with a iron hand, and then they start going on about that as a patient, I have no authority."

"I guess that annoys the shit out of you," Adam said with a small smile.

"It does. They know as well as I do that they can't do a thing without me, so they might as well let me boss over them, despite the fact that I'm in a hospital bed."

That forced another laugh from Adam as he threw the cards he had on hand onto the table.

"Gin."

Lawrence made a face and gathered the cards up. He was planning to shuffle them, but when Adam started talking again, he had to drop the cards and look at the man in front of him.

"But you seem like some sort of uncrowned king around here. You know, before, when your nurse tried to talk to my doctor, at first he wouldn't listen to her, but as soon as she mentioned 'doctor Gordon' he hung on to every word she said."

Lawrence stretched himself as much as he could in his hospital bed and looked smug.

"So it was because of _me _that we could get together after a minor eternity?"

Adam looked at him, amused. He barely seemed to notice that the cards were on the table in a forgotten stack.

"That's a way to put it, yes. Do you want me to drop down on my knees in front of you and kiss your feet?"

"Of course you will. You are all below me, tiny insignificant creatures!" Lawrence said and reached his arms up in a victory gesture.

"Don't get up on too high horses. I was so fucking worried about you I'd probably get down here anyway."

He didn't really understand where that "fucking" came from. Maybe he couldn't express any tenderness without throwing in a cursing.

Lawrence seemed to notice, because he smiled, sort of overseeing, and thought that it was weird, that it felt like he'd known Adam for all his life. That it felt like everything Adam did was predictable. Like how he couldn't say anything flattering without also saying "fucking", or that he fidgeted with the top of his cards when they played.

_This is insane, _Lawrence continued to think as he saw Adam watching him with embarrassed love in his eyes. _I've known him, well, the real him, not the panicking, quippy him, for about a day, and I already know everything he does before he does it. I know about his nervous habits, his sense of humor and his laugh. And yet, I still don't know him. _

_And you claim yourself to be so smart and perfect, _a voice in his head said. _You know all this because he, after just a day, like you said, is your best friend. The bonds you have with him are very unusual, so they grow in an unusual way. You'll see, in just a while, you'll love him like you love Diana. You just made a friend for life, doctor Gordon. _

As if he had read Lawrence's thoughts, Adam said, as he leaned his chin against the table:

"How are Allison and Diana? You get to see them, right?"

"Yeah. The nurse complained about that, too, but she was still easier to talk to about them than about you."

Adam smiled and lowered his eyes.

"I guess the rumor about my dreaded sarcasms have spread all the way up to this floor. But how are they? It's not every day your husband shows up with a missing foot."

"And that's good, if you ask me. Allison was devastated, but she didn't want to show it. Diana didn't really get that I'd actually sawed my foot off. And since it's back now, she doesn't have to know anything. At least, not right now. I guess I have to explain to her when she's older…"

He finished the sentence with a sigh, and Adam understood him. Not even the most sensible teenage daughter would get over the fact that her father had sawed his foot off. Or, she wouldn't do it fast.

"Honey, when you were six years old, I voluntarily sawed off my foot for you." What dinner conversation would you fit that into?

"What will you do when you get out of here?" Lawrence suddenly asked, and the confrontation made Adam lift his head and shift his gaze, nervously.

"I… I don't know… I guess I should try to get a real job… I don't want to get back to that… Hell, I didn't even want to start with it… And… I'll probably need therapy or something…"

The words came in ashamed thrusts, and he was blushing quickly.

_God, _Lawrence thought. _The kid's, what, twenty or something! He's not supposed to need therapy yet! What the hell have you done to him, Jigsaw?! _

"I…" Adam continued, and by now he was so flushed that it looked like he'd fallen asleep in the sun. "God, I'm a pussy… But I think I need… Someone… To get me… Through this… Or something…"

Lawrence looked at him, frowning.

"You have _no one _out there?"

"No need to rub it in," Adam mumbled.

His sarcasms were back, but his face was still red.

"You have me," Lawrence said before he managed stop himself. "You can talk to me."

Adam smiled uncertainly. He still didn't dare to look at Lawrence.

"Sure. But you're a doctor, and I'm broke, so I won't be able to…"

"Stop it," Lawrence cut him off. "That's not why you can talk to me. You know that."

At these words, Adam could, even though he knew he'd regret it later, let the guard he had held up for the last twenty years down. But just for a second.

"Yeah, I know," he said quietly, still staring at the table. "Thanks."

xxxxxxxxxxx

Lawrence didn't get much sleep the following night.

He tossed and turned in his bed, he fell half asleep and he nodded off, but he couldn't sleep. And even those lonely minutes he could, he wished he couldn't.

These fucking nightmares…

He thought he'd get a heart attack when he heard the door open. And during the second he didn't hears Adam's gentle voice, he just managed to think one single thought:

_It's Jigsaw. _

But it wasn't. The person who padded into his room, with a pillow under his arm and dark marks under his eyes, really was Adam.

"Lawrence?" He whispered.

You could tell he hadn't gotten much sleep, either. Lawrence propped himself up on his elbows and looked at him with furrowed brows.

"Adam? What's the matter?"

"I…" Adam said quietly, and his stuttering insecurity was back. "I can't sleep…"

Lawrence smiled sleepily and thought about all those times when Diana had came up to him where he sat, buried in his work, as she clutched on to her teddy bear, and forced him to check her room.

And he felt the same compassioned tenderness for Adam as he did to her.

"And I was wondering if…" Adam began. "If…"

Lawrence knew what he wanted, but he waited. Adam twisted his hands, he opened and closed his mouth and seemed to be fumbling for good words, but he didn't say anything.

"If…" He said again.

"Yes, Adam?" Lawrence said, amused.

"If…" Adam said one more time before he gave up, bowed his head and sighed.

"Ask me if I want to sleep in your bed," he finally said, and seemed annoyed over his own weakness, even though he hadn't really asked.

Pride is so hard to swallow. Especially if all your life, up until now, have circled around keeping it.

"You want to sleep in my bed tonight, Adam?" Lawrence asked and made some space next to him on the bed, since he already knew the answer.

"Yes," Adam said, grumping, walked up to the bed and laid down.

Lawrence covered them both with the blanket. Their intimacy somehow got bigger when they laid like this, body against body, under the same covers, pressed up against each other.

"It's okay to ask about things like that," Lawrence said softly. "You know that, too."

Adam grunted for an answer, and Lawrence smiled against his shoulder. He hesitated for a moment before he stroke Adam's hair, and when he didn't pull away, he put an arm around the younger man's waist and drew him closer.

Lawrence couldn't see it, since he was facing his friend's back, but as he felt the arm around his waist Adam, smiled modestly and closed his eyes, because he actually felt safe. He couldn't remember the last time he'd felt that way.

Maybe they could both sleep tonight.

**Young love… Liked it? Don't forget to review! **


	5. What If Leaving Is A Loving Thing?

**A/N: (Sob) I****'m going to miss this story… But this is the last chapter. I had so much fun writing it, and that was mostly because of all the beautiful reviews. You guys are the best! Anyway, this is not only he last chapter, it's also the one that all of you have waited for… **

**5: What If Leaving Is A Loving Thing? **

That wasn't the last time Adam and Lawrence slept in the same bed.

It was far from the last.

It actually became somewhat of a routine. It didn't take the hospital staff long to realize that it was downright _impossible _to keep them away from each other, and after about a week, they gave Adam a toxic glance when he swept the blankets aside and said he was going to Lawrence for a minute, but they didn't try to stop him. Plus, he got better pretty quickly. Even Lawrence, who was a doctor and had big troubles admitting that everything didn't have a logical explanation, used to say that it was because Adam was so damn stubborn. And he really loved him for it. It was Adam's visits, and the getting to see how he did better, both physically and mentally every day, that got him through the hospital staying.

But the nights were still the best.

Mostly because it was so easy for them to be there for each other then. It was then that they both needed help more than ever, even though it was in completely different ways.

Lawrence got filled with despair. When no doctors or nurses could keep his mind from them, the memories returned. It was at night that he remembered the fear and the pain, it was at night that he just had to squint to see the hospital room turn into the bathroom.

At night, he pressed his hands against his ears to block out Adam's screams and Allison's voice that crackled in he cell phone: _"You failed."_

At night, the scar around his ankle was torn open, at night he could feel the teeth of the saw gnaw over his skin.

Lawrence remembered at night.

And as he remembered, Adam was one floor beneath him, and he was terrified.

Not of the memories, but… Of something unknown. Since the bathroom, he was afraid of the dark, and he had to gather up all the courage he had to pull the blanket down from his head, get up on shaking knees and walk up to Lawrence's room.

They usually didn't talk when Adam walked in, since Lawrence knew that Adam hated himself for actually admitting that he needed help. More than anything, Adam wanted to pretend that he wasn't there at all, he just sneaked up to Lawrence's bedside, said a clipped "Move," and crawled down next to him. Ad then they laid there, closer to each other by every night, breathed together, with Lawrence's arm around Adam's waist. And Lawrence stopped remembering and lived in the present, lived with Adam, and Adam stopped being afraid. In a weird way, it felt like no Jigsaw, no monsters could reach him, as if Lawrence's arm around his waist was a shield against everything that could hurt him.

It was times like that that Adam knew he'd be able to keep the promise he gave to God that awful, awful moment in the bathroom, when it was dark and cold and humid, when blood seeped out between his teeth and not even Lawrence's calming voice was there to comfort him, and he'd seen the toilet lid fly through the air and hit the door.

"_Let me make it out of this bathroom, and I'll never, never ever, take life for granted again."_

He knew it was the truth. Sure, Jigsaw had scarred him for life, he'd never be able to sleep without one light turned on again, but it really didn't matter. Because he discovered that he got a little happier every day. He was still sarcastic, and his sense of humor was a little twisted, but he was happier. And he also knew that most of the things he whined about in his life, he could fix on his own. He could find a new apartment and a real job, and even though he'd never be grateful for that he was put in that bathroom, he could almost be eager to get out into the real world now days.

But the main reason to that both Adam and Lawrence were happier now, was of course each other.

Even Jigsaw, who probably understood love worse than anyone else in the world, would say that it was obvious.

Adam and Lawrence would be friends for the rest of their lives. It was a fact.

And they would never take it for granted.

xxxxxxxxxxx

Lawrence was in his hospital bed, looking at the clock.

Adam should be here soon. He usually showed up around three, didn't he?

God, he was ridiculous. It had been twelve hours since he last met Adam, he couldn't be worried already. You should probably take some things for granted, after all, like the fact that Adam most lightly hadn't died from an infection during these hours. He'd seen how good Adam was doing, he didn't even need that bandage on his shoulder anymore…

Lawrence thoughts were cut off by the door that was opened, and Adam got into the room, looking happier than Lawrence had ever seen him. Lawrence couldn't help but grinning like a fool when he saw the broad smile on Adam's face.

"What's with the smile?" He asked and sat up.

"I got discharged today," Adam said, still smiling. "I'm taking off now, I just wanted to say goodbye."

Lawrence's smile faded away a little at these words.

He knew he should be happy for Adam. And he was, of course, but the selfish part of him whispered in his mind: _"Who's going to paw into my room now at night now, who's going to sleep in my bed? Who's going to… Comfort me?"_

"That's… Great," he said and cleared his throat. "I men… You'll get by on your own, won't you?"

Adam laughed softly.

"I hope you know that the fact that you had to ask just wrecked my entire self-confidence."

"God, you're whining."

Adam's smile faded away, too.

"To be honest, I'm more worried about you."

"No, no, don't be. I have Allison and Diana, they come here almost as much as you do by now."

There was a short pause. Lawrence didn't understand why he felt so miserable. He was going to meet Adam again when he got out, he didn't have to ask to know that. He… He wasn't worried about Adam, was he? He'd just said he got by on his own.

I was just… The idea of Adam, all alone in his apartment, without anyone to talk to when something like this happened. He wouldn't get through it. Even Adam had limits on his stamina.

"Adam…" Lawrence said gently. "Do you really have… _No one _out there? No one to talk to?"

Adam shrugged and gave him a small smile.

"Not really, I've told you that. But… You're going to get out of here sometime, won't you?"

Lawrence smiled back at him.

"Probably. And there's always… Visiting hours and stuff like that…"

"I know. I'll be here tomorrow, okay? If I just manage to steal a hospital gown, I'll probably be able to get in here without anyone talking back.

"Yeah. But… I'm still going to miss you."

Adam blushed briefly. He wasn't able to let go of _all _of his pride yet, so he couldn't really take that compliment.

"What are you, a girl?"

"An insanely in love little teenage girl."

Adam laughed and walked up to Lawrence's bedside.

"You mind if I…"

Lawrence shook his head.

"No. Of course not."

Adam shot him another small smile, laid a hand on Lawrence's shoulder, bent down and allowed, so softly and with so many promises of more, their mouths to connect.

Lawrence smiled into their kiss.

It wasn't adultery. It was okay. Because they were together, finally together _for real, _and it was the first time. They had been together before, but now they really were, all the way, together.

They had both longed for this. And now they were together at last.

So it was okay. And they would do this so many times in the future, so it was all okay. It was even okay for Lawrence to seize the collar of Adam's shirt and keep him for a while, with him, but eventually, they broke apart anyway.

"Jeez, man," Adam said and chuckled softly against Lawrence's lips. "I'm starting to get why Allison fell in love with you."

Lawrence was still smiling.

"Promise me that you come tomorrow."

Adam nodded, still with somewhat flushed cheeks, and raised his hand in a wave before he exited.

He never got to see what happened in Lawrence's room after he left.

Or maybe he knew, on some level, that when the door was shut behind him, Lawrence remained in his bed, traced his lips with the tip of his finger and kept smiling.

**Well, there we go. Another completed AdamLawrence to my collection. Many thanks to those who have read and reviewed so far! Hope you do the same with this chapter. See you, my darlings! **


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